


Broken Together

by LadyKnightSkye



Series: Us Against the World [1]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Background Relationships, Child Abuse, Developing Friendships, F/M, Follows season 1 storyline, Gen, Homophobic Language, Justice for Barbara "Barb" Holland, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Racism, Pre-Season 1, Verbal Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-07-08 09:02:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19867000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyKnightSkye/pseuds/LadyKnightSkye
Summary: A drunk chief and a family of abuse survivors.A lovelorn boy, the object of his affections, and the boy of her dreams.A single mother and a group of imaginative young boys.A mysterious girl with frightening powers.Broken souls. Lonely hearts. Misfits.When darkness starts to fall, it'll be up to the least likely heroes in Hawkins, Indiana to save the town from the machinations of madmen and monsters.





	1. Small Town Life

**Author's Note:**

> Please be aware that the first few chapters will contain quite a bit of period-typical homophobia, especially slurs, as well as semi-graphic descriptions of child abuse. 
> 
> This story will begin about five months before the beginning of season 1, and will also cover the basic story beats of that season. This will start out as a Hargrove-centric fic, but will expand to include the Party and the teens as well as Hopper and Joyce. 
> 
> This work is unbetaed, so please forgive me for any typos. This is my first Stranger Things fic, so I hope you guys enjoy!

Benny Hammond looked the kid up and down. He’d been looking for some help around the place - his little roadside diner had started to be really profitable with all the workers from the lab regularly coming out for dinner and whatnot - and so far the only takers had been Laurence Kimmel the town drunk and this kid. Billy Hargrove, his name was, and he was new to Hawkins. Billy Boy here was dressed in the latest fashion for teenage rebels with his too-tight white t-shirt and Levi jeans. His hair was teased out into a voluminous mullet the kid probably had seen on MTV and he had a scraggly mustache growing in. All in all, Benny guessed other people would write him off as a young tough who would get too big for his britches at least once a shift and ultimately be more trouble than he was worth.

  
But Benny hadn’t been one of the best scouts in his unit for nothing.

  
The kid had arrogant ennui down pat, but there was a tightness around his eyes that spoke of wariness. Benny had seen that expression on too many young men back in ‘Nam not to know the look of someone who was used to being attacked at a moment’s notice. Like most teenage boys he was desperately trying to signal his manliness, but Benny suspected that Daddy encouraged that with his fists.

  
Benny had no kids, having not had much luck with the ladies, but he had a weakness for them. His nightmares of war didn’t focus on fighting, but on the broken bodies of babies in their mother’s arms. The little girls that had been raped by both the Viet Cong and his own brothers in arms. The little boys who had hidden as their mothers were brutalized and murdered. When he’d gotten back state side, he’d made it almost a personal crusade to help any kid he saw that needed help. This kid needed help.

  
“Okay,” he finally said, “You’ve got a job.”

  
The kid smiled, “Thanks.” He stuck out his hand, and Benny shook. “When do I start?”

  
Benny glanced around the sleepy dining room and gestured back to the kitchen. “You got time this afternoon? I can show you the ropes and get the paperwork started. You said you were sixteen right?”

  
Billy nodded. “Yeah, and I’ve got time.”

  
“Good, follow me.”

  
The kid followed him back, and Benny gave him a crash course in how things when in kitchen. “You’re going to have to put that hair up,” he said. “Don’t want hair getting in the food.”

  
The kid scrunched up his nose. “Do I have to wear a hair net?”

  
Benny chuckled. “Nah, unless the health inspector’s here. Otherwise, I think just putting it up in a ponytail will work.”

  
“I ain’t putting it up in a sissy ass ponytail,” the kid muttered.

  
“You will if you want this job,” Benny said sternly. “I’m serious. I ain’t ruinin’ my reputation for you, kid.”

  
A mutinous expression crossed the kid’s face. After a moment it smoothed out into a smirk. “You got it boss.” The smirk didn’t fool Benny though - Billy’s eyes were narrowed and his jaw was tense.

  
“Let me guess, Dad’s a bit of a blowhard? Hates anything that even smells of being girly?” Benny pushed as he flipped a burger he’d left sizzling on the grill for his own lunch.

  
That smirk turned into a sneer. “What’s it to you?”

  
The older man ignored that question. “If you need to, you can pull it back when you get to work. If Pop’s comes in and makes a fuss I’ll tell him I made you. Deal?”

  
The teen stared at Benny for a full minute before nodding. “Deal.”

  
“Alright, now, let’s get down to business . . . Here is how you make the perfect burger.”

* * *

When he got home, Max was skating up and down the narrow street in front of their house. She looked up when he parked, and leaped off of her board. “Hey, Billy,” she said. “You get the job?”

  
He gave her a look. “Yeah, Benny's Burgers.”

  
She nodded, with a contemplative frown. “Cool.”

  
Billy walked past her, the swagger in his gait lost on her. She stepped back onto her board, intending to ignore him some more as well. However, he stopped and looked back at her. “You have some hair ties don’t you?”

  
This caused Max to stop and stare. “Yeah? Why?”

  
“Boss says I have to put up my hair to work there,” Billy explained, watching his stepsister’s face. “I was wondering if you’d part with a couple of em.”

  
“So no hair nets for you,” Max said with a smirk. “Yeah, you can take a couple.”

  
“Thanks.” Right now the two of them had an uneasy truce in place. Both of them had more or less hated this move, but they were at the mercy of Neil and Susan Hargrove’s inability to deal with their exes. So here they were in Hawkins, wondering what the hell they were going to do with themselves. Surfing, skateboarding . . . Their usual pastimes were not available here. Billy had to get a job, and Max almost wished she could go ahead and get one too. It’d be better than hanging around their house all day.

  
“What’s the owner like?” she asked.

  
He glanced back at her as he wiped off his boots on the welcome mat. “What’s it to you?”

  
She shrugged. “Just wondering if he was like Mr. Mison.”

  
Billy snarled. Mison had been the weasel that ran the last place he’d worked at. He’d had a bad habit of hitting on Max when she would come in to pick up food for the family. Billy had done his best to head the douche off at the pass, but Max had been smart enough not to be alone with him. “No, he’s not like Mison.”

  
She nodded, and went back to her skating. He went into the house and was glad to see that neither Susan nor Neil were home. It made it easier to go into Max’s room and grab two of her plain hair ties. He sighed a bit, hating the fact that he even had to work at all, but Neil was adamant that if Billy wanted a car, Billy had to work for it. At least Benny Hammond struck him as a good boss. Mison had also had a bad habit of skimming tips from his waitresses and shorting his cooks on their hours. Only the desperate had worked at Mison’s Eatery.

  
Billy spent the afternoon lifting weights, letting his mind wander. He heard Max come in, then Susan, and finally Neil. There was a murmur of voices that sounded agitated. Then a crash rang out, and Billy put down his dumbbells gently. “Didn’t I tell you to get rid of that thing!” Neil bellowed.

  
Shit, he must have found Max’s skateboard. “No daughter of mine is going to be a fucking dyke!” Neil roared.

  
There was a moment where Billy considered not even leaving his room. Max wasn’t the target of Neil’s abuse often, and that bundle of rage that lived beneath Billy’s heart seethed at the injustice of it all. But then he heard another feminine sound of pain. “And you! You knew about this didn’t you!”

  
Glancing at the clock, Billy realized that he’d miscalculated how late it was. Neil had spent at least an hour at the bar, and that meant no one was going to be safe. Neil wouldn’t even need an excuse to come after him after the older man was done with the women.Taking a deep breath, he strode to the door, and walked out. Down the short hall he went, and there in the kitchen he found Neil caging Susan against the counter. Max was cowering in the corner, frantically trying to protect as much of herself as she could. “It’s mine,” Billy said loudly. “The skateboard. It’s mine.”

  
Both Max and Susan looked at him hopefully. He barely tolerated them, but maybe if he could calm Neil down, he’d stop. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t. The older man was incredibly capricious, and sometimes no amount of platitudes or explanations would mollify him. Nights where he started on them usually ended with bruises on Billy’s face too. “They why was it in Max’s room?” Neil asked softly, dangerously.

  
“That was my fault!” Susan piped up. “I . . . I didn’t think!”

  
Max only sniveled some more from her corner.

  
Neil backed away, and picked up the board. Max whimpered, but Billy managed not to throw her a disgusted look. “Yours, huh?” The older man looked down at the board, and then up at Billy. Without a word, he walked out of the kitchen, and then out the front door. None of the other three moved, all of them frozen in indecision. Billy hated it when Neil got unpredictable, but he refused to go find out what the other man was doing.

  
Suddenly, a loud crack filled the house. It was the sound of breaking wood. Billy started forward, going to the front door. Neil was in the driveway, slamming the board against the pavement. After two more blows, the already cracked board finally splintered into two. He threw it down on the ground and then stomped back inside, brushing past Billy without a word. He went into the dining room, and sat down at the head of the table. “Where’s my dinner?” He called.

  
Billy came in and sat to his right. Max was still leaking tears when she helped her mother serve them their plates. Susan looked composed as she took a seat at the table. Looking at the disinterest of his father, the upset of his step-sister, and the smooth apathy of his step-mother, the other thing Billy could think was, what a happy, happy family.

* * *

Benny had asked that he come in bright and early the next morning, so Billy made sure to be there on time. He’d tied his hair up at home, knowing that Neil had already left by the time he’d woken. Benny had not been wrong about Neil’s propensity to find even the smallest things some how offensive. He wouldn’t be surprised in the least if Neil went off the deep end over a pony tail. Max was still asleep, but he heard Susan moving around the kitchen. He stalked by, but stopped when he heard her voice. “Billy?”

  
“Yeah?” he drawled.

  
She gave him a timid smile. “Off to work? Max told me you got the job.”

  
It was tempting to lash out, to say something caustic, but he decided to leave it be. He just nodded, turned, and left. He heard the small sigh she made, but was out the door before she could say anything else. The drive to Hammond’s Diner was uneventful, just Billy rocking out to the latest hits on the radio.

  
When he finally got in , Benny was chatting with a customer. The woman in question was probably around Susan’s age, pretty with brown hair and big blue eyes. She was obviously enthralled with whatever it was Benny was telling her. When he greeted Billy, the woman barely gave him a second glance.

  
That irked Billy. He knew for a fact that he was a good looking guy, and had learned charm at Neil Hargrove’s manipulative knee. As much as his father railed at his ways, it was his habit of practicing his flirtatious looks in the mirror that had kept him in pussy for the last year. Plus, women loved his tight jeans and habit of showing off his chest. His bad boy image was catnip for women of all ages, and this chick shouldn’t have been immune. 

  
Yet she was. He stood with Benny for a full minute, and she didn’t seem to even notice he was there. All of her attention was on the older man, and Billy was confused as to why. They were literally just talking about the town’s July 4th party. “Yeah, I’m going to be going this year with my sister,” she said. Her eyes batted lazily. “Are you going?”

  
Benny laughed. “Probably. Might set up a food cart this year if Mayor Kline doesn’t see fit to charge an arm and a leg like last year.” Finally, he turned to Billy. “Come on kid, we’ve got work to do. Enjoy your breakfast Becky.”

  
Billy followed the older man into the kitchen, and set to work on the tasks of chopping vegetables and shaping meat patties. However, he couldn’t stop thinking about the woman out in the dining room. The only time he’d been ignored like that was the one time he’d run across a dyke at Mison’s. Maybe the lady out there preferred women?

  
As the day wore on, however, he found that it wasn’t just that woman. A lot of men came in to shoot the breeze with Benny, but any women who came in seemed absolutely taken with him too. Billy just couldn’t understand it. Benny was a huge guy, topping Billy’s own height by at least six inches, with wide shoulders and a powerful build. However, he was stocky rather than athletic, and his hairline was receding badly. That’s not to say that whenever it was his turn to serve that the ladies didn’t pay attention to him - they did! - but it honestly got to Billy how much the women loved Benny.

  
And not just in the “he’s a nice guy” way, but in the “he’s got a nice ass” way too. At least three women checked Benny’s ass out while he walked away from them, and Billy actually approached one table of middle aged women discussing the size of Benny’s biceps.

  
It was maddening.

  
The next day saw just as many women cooing over the huge diner owner, and Billy finally couldn’t help but ask. “Hey, the girls really love you, don’t they?” he asked as casually as he could while washing dishes that evening.

  
Benny, who was wiping down the cook top, chuckled. “I guess so, kid.”

  
“How?” Billy finally asked, all of his incredulity creeping into his voice. “How do you do it?”

  
This made Benny stop. The older man eyed him a moment, and Billy could see the calculation sliding through his eyes. For a moment, his hackles went up. It was the same look Neil sometimes got right before going on a rampage. “You’re slick as snot with the ladies aren’t ya?” Benny finally asked, surprising Billy with his abruptness.

  
“What’s that supposed to mean?”

  
“You charm the ladies with that look you like,” Benny replied, contorting his face into something resembling Billy’s practiced smolder. “You manipulate em, turn em into putty by making em think you’re the guy of their dreams.”

  
Oh, the hackles were so back up. “Yeah? Is that a problem?”

  
“Not really,” Benny answered candidly, “But it’s fake as hell. Might work in the short term, but women, they don’t like being lied to. They like me because I don’t do that shit.”

  
Billy thought of Neil. Neil who turned on the charm whenever anyone he wanted to use was around. He’d seen it many times from the string of girlfriends Neil’d had before the divorce from Billy’s mother had been finalized, the couple of times concerned teachers had reported bruises on Billy, and that one cop back in California who’d caught Neil driving drunk. It was kind of amazing how often a sweet smile and “aw, shucks” demeanor could convince a teacher and a principal that little Billy had just taken a hard fall from his surf board again. Happened to boys all the time right? “Yeah but . . .” he began, anger beginning to build in his gut, the rage beneath his heart twisting.

  
“But what?” Benny said with a laugh. “But I’m not some hot young stud with an earring?” He patted his stomach. “It’s okay, for a lot of ladies, the state of my gut is secondary to the fact that I own my own business.”

  
This, Billy understood. “So they like you because you have money?”

  
“No kid,” Benny said with a shake of his head. “They like me because I’m a nice guy who listens to them and treats them like they’re people and not notches on my bed post. They’re attracted to the fact that I work hard and would be able to support them.”

  
Billy sneered. “Right.”

  
Benny only laughed. “Turn your nose up all you like, kid, fact is, getting a girl’s attention is easy. Keeping it is the hard part.”

* * *

As the next few days passed, Benny decided that he liked Billy Hargrove. Kid was a complete asshole, but he worked hard. He arrived on time, flirted just enough to try to prove Benny wrong about his views on the fairer sex, and followed orders precisely. He couldn’t ask for a better helper around the diner.

  
“So, kid, when did you move to Hawkins?” he asked on Billy’s fourth day working at the diner.

  
“Two weeks ago,” Billy answered, dutifully cutting potatoes into french fries.

  
“And you lived in California before?”

  
“Yeah,” the kid answered, refusing to look up.

  
“What’d’you get up to out there?” he pressed.

  
The kid stopped for a minute, but resumed his work after awhile. Benny waited patiently, but no answer was forthcoming. The instincts he’d honed in the Marines told him not to press this. Something about it was deeply personal, and the kid would not react well to his prying. “So, what about your family? I think you mentioned them. Bring em by for a burger on me sometime.”  
The kid still didn’t speak, but at least this time Benny got a nod. He’d not completely burned his bridges then. The door opened at just that moment, admitting one Jim Hopper. “Look at my other broken bird come to roost,” Benny muttered as he walked out to greet his friend. “Hop!” he cried a little louder.

  
Jim looked like hell. His eyes were blood shot and just slightly out of focus. His stubble was scraggly and he’d obviously not shaved the edges in a few days. His uniform was neat, but Benny figured that a Schlitt’s was not far into Hopper’s future. And probably not long in his past either. “Hey, Benny, you got a cheeseburger for me?”

  
“It’ll take just a few,” he replied, walking back into the kitchen. He threw on the meat and dropped the fries. “Hey, kid, make this one all the way, ok? And bring out a glass of Coke.”

  
After Billy’s nod, he walked back out to Hopper. “So, Hop, what’re you up to today?”

  
“Same old, same old,” Hopper replied. “Same shit, different day.”

  
Billy had just come out to deliver the requested beverage, and he snorted at Hopper’s statement. “I know right?” he muttered.  
Hopper eyed him, a hawkish expression coming over his face. Benny had never gotten any stories out of him, but he was pretty sure that Hop had seen some brutal shit in his time. He knew they’d both served in ‘Nam, but the police chief had never mentioned if he was Army or Marines. Plus he’d been some sort of hot shot detective out in New York or Chicago or something. “Hop, this is Billy Hargrove, my new sous chef.”

  
“Sous what?” Billy asked.

  
“Means you’re his second in command,” Hopper replied.

  
“There’s only two of us,” Billy commented.

  
“Exactly,” Benny chuckled, “So that’s why you’ve been elevated to the second highest post in the kitchen.”

  
“Hargrove,” Hopper said, interest in his eyes. “I haven’t seen you around before. And I don’t know anybody named Hargrove.”  
“They moved here from California,” Benny supplied.

  
Hopper nodded, and Billy threw out a disgusted look. “Do you know everyone or something?”

  
“I’m the police chief, I’m supposed to know everyone,” Hop replied.

  
“Welcome to small town life,” Benny chuckled. “Welcome to small town life.”


	2. Do-Gooder Type

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hopper and Billy are uncomfortably alike.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be aware that this chapter contains period typical homophobia, drug abuse, and racism. There is also a scene of graphic verbal abuse and homophobic slurs.

For Billy, the following week passed calmly. He went to work in the afternoon, and didn’t get home until well after nine. He barely saw Neil, and usually that was only in passing. Susan would greet him in the mornings, but she didn’t try to engage him. Max stayed in her room, probably mourning the death of her skateboard. Billy didn’t blame her, even if he thought she was a moron for leaving it where their father could find it easily. Hell, he blamed her for being attached to anything. As soon as you loved something or someone, life had a way of fucking you over with it.

  
He was also getting a feel for his boss. Benny was the do-gooder type, from his friendship with a cop to his support of all kinds of charity crap. It wasn’t really a bad thing, but it grated on Billy’s nerves. Benny saw the good in everyone and everything, while Billy saw the bad. And of course it was ten times worse when some of the local black folks wandered in. Billy had gotten a monstrous dressing down when he had asked if they wanted fried chicken and watermelon.

  
“I don’t care how you feel about em,” Benny had snarled. “They’re customers and deserve some politeness, got it?”

  
Billy had abided by the letter of the law, if not the spirit, but Benny seemed to be satisfied with that.

  
Chief Hopper came in every couple of days, and Billy found himself in the odd position. If Benny was the ultimate irritant, Hopper was a strange balm for a teenage rebel. Both of them were so unceasingly choleric and facetious that it caused no few raised eyebrows when the policeman would come in for lunch. “Afternoon Billy,” Chief Hopper muttered one rainy day about ten days after Billy started. “How’s it goin?”

  
Billy just shrugged. “Not bad, not good. What’d’ya feel like today?”

  
“Coke and chicken salad.” Chief pulled out his pack of cigarettes and lit one. “Not feeling all that hungry today.”

  
“What, Mrs. Gilliespe’s hair get attacked again?” Billy said as he walked back into the kitchen. He returned shortly with Chief’s food.

  
Chief just shook his head. “Nah, just, . . . days like today remind me why I should stay away from women.”

  
Billy glanced back at Benny, but the other man nodded. He took a seat across from the chief of police. “Aw, don’t tell me some chick dumped the town’s most eligible bachelor?”

  
Chief’s eyes cut to Billy with such razor sharpness that the kid half expected to bleed. “Kid,” he said softly, “I’m going to give you one piece of advice. Don’t piss off the local cops.”

  
The threat in Chief’s voice made every muscle in Billy’s body tense. He didn’t reply, just sat still, waiting for the explosion. After a few tense moments of staring warily at each other, Chief went back to eating, and Billy swallowed thickly. “Get your tail out from between your legs, kid, it’s the anniversary of my divorce.”

  
The teen snorted. “You keep track of that?”

  
Chief’s eyes had not softened one iota, but that damn _knowing_ look that he and Benny had flitted across his face. “Kid, I got a question for ya.”

  
“Yeah?”

  
“What do you think it means to be a man?”

  
That question stopped Billy completely. He opened his mouth to answer, but realized that he . . . he wasn’t sure. If it had been anyone but Chief, he probably would have bullshit something, but he . . . he liked Chief. It was odd, and he’d gone so long without actually _liking_ another human being that it felt jarring and out of place. So he put together the best string of thoughts he could. “I guess . . . To be . . . strong, I guess?”

  
Chief nodded. “So, what does it mean to be strong?”

  
“I . . . to be able to take punches. To be able to fight back.”

  
“Against what?”

  
This time he kept his mouth shut. Billy wasn’t sure where Chief was going, but he wasn’t going to be led by the nose anymore. The older man seemed to sense it, and his eyes narrowed. “You ever lose someone you love?”

  
His mother’s smile swam into his mind’s eye.

  
Instead of answering, Billy got up and walked back into the kitchen.

* * *

Jim Hopper was marking time, and he knew it. He woke up, he went to work, he numbed himself with drink and pills and sarcasm, he went home, he slept. He lived in his dark cave of a life, hiding his wounds from the burning brightness of the sun. It had carried him for the last four years, and he expected it to carry him forward for the next forty.   
That is, until he started getting close to Benny’s sous chef.

  
Sometimes it was like looking into a mirror. Billy Hargrove had a lot of his humor, a lot of his pessimism. And it wasn’t hard to imagine that the kid had a lot of his fear. His pain. You don’t walk away from a question like that unless there’s a lot of hurt hiding beneath. But he also knew when to back off, and pushing the kid further today would only cause the kid to shut down. Better to bide his time.

  
That thought stopped him. When had he decided that he wanted to help this kid? Was Benny rubbing off on him?  
As he chewed on his sandwich, the door to the diner opened up to admit a lanky man that Hop had never seen before. Something about his face warranted a closer look, and after a moment he realized that the man looked a bit like Billy around the eyes. Had to be his father. “Billy,” the guy called.

  
The kid walked out of the kitchen, and instantly Hop felt his hackles rise. The kid was all but screaming his discomfort to the skies, but Hop knew that very few of the others in the room would notice. Billy was biting his lip, his head angled down and to the side. His shoulders were hunched in even though they were facing the man. “Dad,” Billy said. His voice was steady, but Hop wasn’t fooled.

  
The kid was scared.

  
“Came in to eat one of these burgers the joint’s famous for,” Mr. Hargrove said.

  
Billy nodded, his shoulders relaxing, and his face smoothing out. “Yeah, coming right up.”

  
The man turned, and sauntered over to the table next to Hopper’s. The police chief had a momentary thought to leave it be. To not engage. However, a dormant thing in Hopper, a tendril of the man he once was, unfurled in the face of his suspicion. There was no love lost between the two Hargrove men, and in Hopper’s experience all the evidence pointed to abuse. He’d seen it enough in the city to spot it a mile away. He’d been somewhat of a pain in his precinct chief’s ass with how often he defied their policies on domestic abuse, but he couldn’t stand by and watch innocents suffer. Most of the other cops had been content to leave it be, let men be men in their own homes - or some shit like that - but not Hopper.

  
Billy was a little shit, but Hopper suspected half of it was because of the man sitting at the next table. Billy had to make his own decisions in life, his own choices in how he would act, but it might help make his choices easier if this man had no power to hurt the kid anymore. So Hopper turned, ready to speak to Mr. Hargrove. He could start with some innocuous comments on the weather, and gauge just what kind of man he was dealing with.

  
Hopper’s cave started to lighten just a little.

* * *

Two days later, Hopper again came in for lunch, but was surprised to find a young girl hanging out at one of the tables. It was notable because no other customers were there. She turned to look at him, her red waves shining in the early afternoon light. Her face was impassive, but she clutched the back of a chair with a white knuckle grip. “Afternoon,” he said, trying for his most jovial tone of voice. 

  
“Hi,” she replied, her voice soft.

  
Benny chose that moment to finally appear. “Ah! Hey Jim! This is Max, Billy’s younger sister. Max, this is Chief Jim Hopper.”  
The girl nodded to him. “Nice to meet you.”

  
Sara would have been around her age.

  
The thought scrambled Hopper’s brain, his mind going horribly blank. After a fraught few seconds, he finally nodded to the girl, and sat down in his usual spot just outside the kitchen. Billy came out, but Hop noticed something immediately different about him. He was stiff, a lot like how he’d been when his father had come in, however, this time the tension was aggressive rather than submissive. With Mr. Hargrove, Billy had subtly curled in on himself, braced to absorb blows. Right now he was tense as if to dole them out. “Hey, Chief.”

  
Max turned back to the comic book she had out, but Hopper didn’t miss the wary eye she kept on her brother. “Your usual?” Benny asked.

  
“Yeah,” he said. After Benny and Billy went back in the kitchen, he pulled out his pills and took a Xanax dry. It had been less than the prescribed six hours since his last dose, but damn if this wasn’t going to be a five or six Xanax day.

  
When he glanced back over at the girl, he realized that she’d seen him. However, she ducked her head when she realized she’d been caught. Hopper shook his head, knowing that it didn’t really matter if the girl said anything. After a few more minutes, Billy brought out his food. The kid didn’t sit down like he usually did, instead turned on his heel to walk right back into the kitchen without a word. Hopper cocked a brow, but just took a draught of Coke rather than to ask.

  
“He’s just mad,” the girl said softly.

  
“What was that?” Hop said, looking over at the girl. At Max.

  
She swallowed, and glanced at the kitchen. Then, she gathered up her comic book and sat at the table across from Hopper. “He’s just mad. Our . . . dad came by here a couple of days ago. He didn’t like the burgers.”

  
The girl’s eyes were a bright, doe brown. “Is that so?”

  
“Yeah,” she said as she perched in the chair across from him. “Sometimes our dad is . . . a jerk.”

  
Hopper’s suspicions raised their head again even through the fog of his drugged out brain. He dug a piece of meat out from between his teeth with his tongue and asked “You guys don’t look like siblings.”

  
She shrugged. “My mom married Billy’s dad five years ago. I’m kinda amazed that Billy didn’t try to correct Mr. Hammond. Usually when he’s mad he denies that we’re related at all.”

  
“Is that so?” he answered thoughtfully. “So, your stepdad is kind of a jerk, huh?”

  
“Yeah, a lot,” she said softly.

  
“Maxine.”

  
Both of them turned to see Billy leaning in the kitchen doorway. “Let Chief Hopper finish his meal in peace.” His tone was deadly.

  
Max set her jaw, but was moving to gather her things when Hopper’s hand went up to stop her. “Hey, she’s okay. I needed someone to chat with anyway. Sit down, Max.” The girl did what he said, and he saw Billy’s sneer as the teen turned back to the kitchen. “So, what’ve you been getting up to this summer, sweetheart?”

  
It wasn’t until he was back in his truck and the Xanax had well and truly hit him that Hopper even contemplated what the hell he was doing. He felt like smacking his skull against the steering wheel a few times to knock loose this stupid idea that he was running with. What were these two kids to him? Yeah, he was the chief of police, but it wasn’t a crime for a dad to be an asshole to his kids.

  
_It is a crime if he’s hitting them._

  
He snorted at the thought. Most states had laws about that kind of thing, but domestic abuse was still new and controversial in some jurisdictions. He also had no proof other than his gut that Hargrove was actually hitting his kids. The guy was definitely an asshole to them, but verbal abuse was not something he could ask the county prosecutors to charge Hargrove with without some compelling evidence to back it up. No, better to just go back to coasting through his life. If he actually saw some bruises, he’d follow up. If not, there was nothing he could do.

* * *

Max was dreading getting home that evening. Being alone with Billy was trying enough, what with him snapping at everything she did and said, but Neil was being especially worrisome. Sunday - the one day that Billy and Neil both had off - had been tense and terrifying. At first everything had been okay, but then Neil had taunted Billy about cooking dinner. When she’d told Chief Hopper that Neil had not liked the burgers, she’d been fudging the details. 

  
Neil didn’t care about the burger, he cared that Billy was cooking.

  
Max didn’t understand it herself, but for some reason Neil was convinced that cooking was one of the things that was women’s work. Didn’t matter that Max could burn water and Billy made a damn good plate of deviled eggs, cooking was still what Max was supposed to do, not Billy. Surfing wasn’t manly, looking nice wasn’t manly, cooking wasn’t manly. She sometimes thought that it didn’t matter what Billy did, it was never, ever going to be enough for Neil.

  
So Sunday had been spent listening to Neil gradually going from teasing to berating. Susan and Max had been largely left out of the vitriol, but towards the evening he started making comments about her. “Just my luck,” he’d griped from his armchair, “My son’s a faggot and my step daughter’s a dyke.”

  
He gestured with his beer to Susan who was perched on the couch next to him. “How about that, Susie, you have a carpet muncher, and I have a cocksucker!”

  
Max was not even entirely sure what either term truly meant, but she knew they were bad. She’d burst into tears, hiding in her room as Neil had chuckled nastily. Her mother hadn’t uttered a word even with tears pouring down her face. Billy had refused to leave his room, and she had heard music blasting.

  
And now she dreaded this evening because she wasn’t sure how Neil was going to act. Was this a one off, or would they be enduring his horrible slurs for days to come? They were going home early because Mondays were slow days for the diner, but she wished that they could have stayed. She knew that even though he wouldn’t admit it, Billy wished the same thing.

  
When they got to the house, Max breathed a sigh of relief. Neil was working on their lawnmower, and was drinking a Coke. He nodded to them as they walked into the house, and Susan was singing softly in the kitchen. Both things told Max that Neil was in a better mood today, so hopefully he’d vented all his vitriol.

  
She would get her wish. For the next two months, Neil kept his abuse to a minimum. And then, he exploded.


	3. The Levy Breaks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billy learns more about Hopper and Benny.
> 
> Susan finally has enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please be aware that this chapter contains a graphic scene of child abuse as well as homophobic language.

“Benny, do you ever go on dates?”

  
The older man looked up at Billy with a small smile. “What you need pointers?”

  
That earned a snort. “No, but I see you flirting with all the ladies, but you don’t talk about taking any chicks out.”

  
“Because a real man doesn’t brag about shit like that,” Benny replied. “And anyway, I’m not the dating type.”

  
“So you just take em to the motel?” Billy asked with a smirk.

  
That got the kid a dirty look. “No, it means I’m not much good for any girl.”

  
The kid visibly was brought up short. “What’d’ya mean?”

  
Benny sighed, a deep sigh that rolled from his shoulders all the way down to his toes. “Yeah, we can date, have a good time, but in the end all I’m going to do is hurt a girl. It’s . . . it’s hard to explain.”

  
The kid blinked. “What’s so hard about it?”

  
Benny checked the dining room. It was empty, which was usual for that time on a Thursday afternoon. “Come sit down.”  
The kid followed him out and sat down with him. Benny had a cup of water, and the kid had some Coke and a piece of gum.

“I’m a Marine,” Benny started, pulling up the sleeve of his shirt to reveal a globe and anchor tattoo on his right arm. “Fought in ‘Nam like a lot of guys my age.”

  
Billy nodded. “My dad fought too. He came back when I was six.”

  
Benny nodded, taking a gulp of his water. “War . . . does things to you. I came back in ’72. The first week I was home, I jumped every time I heard a loud noise. I still remember New Year’s Eve. Fireworks . . . Chief Kelly - guy who was here before Hopper - he locked me up for drunk and disorderly, but I was dead sober. You seen _First Blood?_ The movie with Rambo in it?”

  
“Yeah.”

  
“It was kinda like that. I just . . . lost it. Lost my damn mind. The fireworks . . . I was right back in Quan Duc Duc Valley watching my buddy Johnson jumping on a grenade.” Tears pooled in his eyes. “I still see it sometimes at night.”

  
“Dad . . . he used to scream,” Billy said, but his eyes were a thousand miles away, and his voice was a low murmur.

  
Benny nodded. “It messes you up. Losing people in horrible ways. Seeing the damage a war makes. I’ve seen things kid, things I never want anyone else to see. It changed me. I don’t . . . listen, weird as it sounds, you’re the first person other than Hopper and Chief Kelly that I’ve ever told this to. I just need you to know.”

  
“To know what?”

  
Benny held Billy’s eyes. “That you’re not alone.” Then he got up, and walked back into the kitchen. 

* * *

For three days Billy agonized over Benny’s words. Why did Benny need him to know that he wasn’t alone? What kind of bull shit was this? However, every time he went to ask, he remembered the haunted look in Benny’s eyes. That look scared Billy, as much as he tried to deny it even to himself. It was the look of someone who had seen things, things that the teen couldn’t even imagine. What did it say about him that Benny thought he needed to know this shit?

  
So he did the next best thing. He asked the Chief. “Benny told me about when he was a Marine,” he started, watching Chief munch on his fries.

  
The policeman gave him a look. “Don’t say it like that where he can hear you. Marines can be discharged, but they never actually leave the Marines.”

  
Billy rolled his eyes. “Okay, he told me he was a Marine. But . . .” Billy really didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to ask for help. It smacked of actually _caring_ and if life had taught him anything, it was that caring for others was a stupid, stupid move. But dammit, _he needed to know_. “He told me I wasn’t alone.”

  
Chief gave him an unamused look. “What’s confusing about that?”

  
“Why? What did he mean?” Billy tried to keep the frustration out of his voice, tried to inject a bit of the Hargrove charm into it.  
Chief put down his burger and sat up from where he’d been crouched over his basket. He was a little pale this afternoon, and Billy had learned quickly that that meant he’d probably woken up with quite the hangover. “Look, me and Benny know that there’s something going on at home with you and your dad. Some shit that bothers you, even though you don’t want to admit it. You puff yourself up like the man-child you are, trying to be the biggest cock on the walk when we both know you’re scared. Scared of being what you’ve been accused of. I don’t know if he calls you queer or a fuckup or what, but whatever it is, you’re terrified that he’s right. He’s already skewed you so that you think that being a man means being the biggest dick and getting the most pussy. And you can’t measure up to whatever standards he’s set.

  
“I’m guessin’ Mom either died or ran, and left you to deal with it all. So, now on top of his bullshit, you have no one in your corner. So, you push away anyone that might be stupid enough to care about you. You push em away by being an asshole, by putting them down just like he puts you down. I bet Max used to look up to you, right? Used to follow you everywhere until he ruined that for you. Until you decided that you would rather have her at arm’s length than risk losing her.”

  
Billy felt his throat closing, panic setting in, but he was unable to run.

  
Chief just continued on. “Benny told you you weren’t alone because you’re not. Benny hides it well, and I didn’t hide it at all, but we’re both broken. Benny thinks that helping others will heal him, but I . . .” He stopped, covering his mouth. “Look kid, he’s right. You’re not alone. That’s what he wanted you to know.”

  
The older man rose, leaving Billy sitting there completely ripped to metaphorical pieces. But one last question pushed itself past Billy’s lips. “What do you think then?”

  
“I think life sucks,” Chief replied, “And then you die.” He turned and left the money to cover his food by the register.

  
Benny had the grace to wait a few minutes before he came out of the kitchen. No one else had witnessed it. “Come on, kid, we have potatoes to prep.”

  
Woodenly, Billy got up and went to do as Benny said. After a few minutes with the only sound being the soft susuruss of blades through starchy flesh, he finally spoke again. “What broke Chief?”

  
Benny looked up, and smiled softly. “He lost his daughter a few years back. Cancer. He watched her die.”  
“And you had Johnson?”

  
The older man’s smile turned misty. “Yeah. He was a good kid. Pretty boy like you. He was from Charleston, South Carolina and had this thick Southern drawl. It was like listening to molasses talk. He couldn’t wait to get home and eat shrimp and grits. Practically preached the gospel of shrimp and grits, he did. Good barbecue was the other thing he missed. Old Ralph Johnson.”

  
“What happened?”

  
“We were pinned down on patrol. All of us dug in, and it was me, Ralph, and this other fella, Henderson. Grenade came sailing in. I thought, that was it, we were dead, but Johnson, I don’t even think he stopped to think about it. He just jumped. Smothered the blast with his body. He was dead before I could even comprehend what had happened. I went down to meet his mama once. She was the sweetest little ole black lady. Told me that it sounded like her Ralph alright.” Benny was quiet for a moment. “Johnson wasn’t the only one, but he’s the one I can name. All the others . . . they were Vietnamese kids staring at me with dead eyes. Kids that had seen every manner of human evil. I like to think that people are good, but I still don’t trust myself at night.”

  
Billy stared at the same potato that had been on his chopping board for the past three minutes. He knew that he should say something, but what did you say to someone who had just bared his soul? Did he have the courage to admit that his mother left him, his father hit him, and he agreed with Chief? Life sucked and then you died?

  
Ultimately, he said nothing.

* * *

But Chief Hopper and Benny Hammond’s stories would not leave Billy alone. He thought about Chief’s little girl and Benny’s black friend far more than he should have. He thought about what that must have been like, to watch someone you loved die. Sometimes he’d wished that his mother would have done that, just to save him the agony of never getting to see her again, but maybe that would have been worse.

  
For the last two months he’d been slowly sliding into a friendship with Benny and Chief, and he realized that he’d done something really stupid. He’d let them in. He wanted Chief’s approval. He wanted Benny to tell him he was doing a good job.

  
_Oh God he was such a fucking idiot._

  
Nothing good ever came of letting anyone in. They left you. They betrayed you. And here he was, two men becoming far more important than even his own father. Chief and Benny had done far more parenting in the last two months than Neil Hargrove had. For almost a week these thoughts swirled around Billy’s head. Then Sunday rolled around.

  
Neil spent most of it out at a bar.

  
Granted, the family thought he’d gone into the next town on a fishing trip with some fellas from his work, but when he stumbled in around seven, smelling of sour whiskey and vomit, Billy girded his loins. This was going to be bad. 

* * *

When she had married Neil Hargrove, Susan had thought that her life was going to get better. She had loved Neil so much, and he’d seemed like the perfect man. Charming, handsome, dependable. He’d treated her like a princess while they’d been dating and engaged, but all that had changed as soon as she had a ring on her finger. It started small, little criticisms here and there. Then he graduated to calling her names and hitting Billy in front of her. She had cringed and flinched, but ultimately did nothing.

  
Then he started hitting her and Max.

  
Susan liked to think she wasn’t a weak woman, but Neil terrified her. He was bigger, stronger, and had taught her the one time she’d fought back that it was a bad idea to do so. So, she never did again. She stood by for five years, watching him beat his son, beat her daughter, beat her. She stood by as he called them all the most horrible names, and she did it in the name of stability. In the name of fear.

  
Until this night.

  
Neil had returned from his trip to the bar in the next town, and she had been in the middle of cooking dinner when he rolled into the house almost literally. He stank, and her heart had dropped upon realizing that tonight was going to be bad. It was always bad when Neil got drunk.

  
Neil was staring at her with blood shot eyes, but they settled to her right and the young man who had stepped into the hall to see what was going on. “They’re talking about you,” he slurred at Billy, “Talking about how much you talk to the police chief, Hooper. You find a sugar daddy or something?”

  
Susan saw the look that flitted through Billy’s eyes and nearly screamed at him not to say a word. Too bad he was not telepathic. “Fuck off.”

  
That was very much the wrong thing to say.

  
“What did you say to me!?” Neil roared, lashing out with a fist. He got Billy right in the cheek, just below the bone. The boy went down, hard, his knees hitting the floor with a load crack, his head knocking the wall. The older man fell on him, screaming homophobic slurs and profanity, and the boy just curled into himself to protect his vulnerable head and belly.  
Billy was crying. “Stop!” he tried to yell, but it only came out as a strangled whine. “Stop!”

  
That was when Susan Mayfield Hargrove broke. That was the moment when the fearful woman finally made a decision not to allow this man to lay one more finger on anyone in this house. She had let him terrorize her and her child and his child for years, but she knew the truth of him now. This house was in her name. She had a stable job. She would not let him continue to insult her, her daughter, and this poor boy. Her hand shot out, and she grabbed the phone. She dialed the police department quickly, and when the dispatcher answered she said, “Help me please! He’s beating our son!”

* * *

Hopper got the call while he was on his way home. Usually he would leave it in the capable hands of the sheriff and his deputies, or even a couple of his officers, but when he heard who had made the call, he had to go. “I”m on my way,” he said into the radio.

  
“Gotcha boss,” the dispatcher replied.

  
When he arrived, Powell already had Neil Hargrove handcuffed in the back of his cruiser. “Hopper,” he greeted.

  
“What’d we got?”

  
Powell wiped his brow. “A mess. I called EMS to come out and take a look at the kid. He’s busted up pretty good, but he won’t anyone get near him. Hargrove here was screeching his head off about his son and verbally abusing his wife. Had the gall to call me names too.” The other man snorted. “You did say you had a bad feeling about this guy.”

  
“Yeah, but I didn’t think it would be this bad,” Hopper muttered.

  
Powell sucked his teeth. “I looked into him after you mentioned your suspicions. Never told you because it wasn’t anything that could be confirmed, but I called up the station back in California. Apparently, the elementary school where Billy had gone to school had logged a couple of complaints. Kid showed up with bruises a lot. Nothing was ever done, but . . .”

  
Hopper nodded and entered the home. The living room and hallway looked okay, but he could see flour strung out along the floor towards the back of the house. He followed the low voice of Callahan, and the sobbing of a woman. He found Mrs. Hargrove at the table, holding on to her silent daughter. The girl looked haunted, but the woman had a livid bruise along her left cheek. Her nose was also smeared with blood. Billy was nowhere to be seen. Powell was right, it was a mess.

  
“Can you tell me what happened?” he asked gently, falling back on the techniques he’d learned on some mean streets. This wasn’t the worst case of domestic abuse he’d ever seen - he’d shown up to dead bodies more than he ever wanted to think about - but for it to happen in Hawkins . . . it was bad.

  
Mrs. Hargrove looked up at him, her brown doe eyes just like her daughter’s. She swallowed thickly, blinking quickly. She licked her lips, and Hopper let her have all the time she needed to calm herself enough to answer. “Neil came home drunk,” she said “He . . . he got onto Billy for being friendly with you. Asked him . . . asked him . . .” She sobbed.

  
“It’s okay. I’m guessing Billy got mouthy with him?”

  
“Yes.” She looked back up at him. “Neil . . . he punched him. Billy fell. I thought that would be the end of it, but Neil was screaming . . . just screaming . . . Screaming awful things, calling Billy a faggot and cocksucker and . . .” She shook her head. “He was hitting him, and Billy was just laying there . . . I tried to pull him off, but Neil punched me and I fell back into the counter. Then he went back to hitting Billy . . . Oh God.”

  
“Shh, shh,” Hopper murmured. “It’s going to be okay. Where is Billy? Officer Powell said that he needs to be looked at.”  
For the first time, Max spoke up. “He’s in his room. He ran in there after they pulled . . . Neil off of him.”

  
Hopper nodded, and pointed to the doors in the hall. “Which one?”

  
Max pointed it out, and Hopper moved over to it. He leaned against the door, but all he heard was shallow sobs of pain. “Kid?”

  
“Go away.”

  
Hopper pursed his lips. “I can’t do that Billy,” he said in his gentlest voice. He tried not to dwell on the fact that it was the same voice he’d used to talk to his daughter on her death bed. “You need help Billy. The paramedics are going to be here in a few minutes, and they need to make sure you’re okay.”

  
“No. Go away.” The boy’s voice was cracking, but Hopper could hear the palpable pain in the sound. The kid was hurt badly.  
He licked his lips. He had to help this poor kid. “Billy, you remember when we talked about what it takes to be a man?”

  
“Yeah.”

  
“A real man knows his limits. A real man asks for help when he needs it.”

  
“Like you do?” the kid burst out. “Like you did after your daughter died?”

  
Hopper’s fists clenched. Violence uncoiled in his gut, but he took a deep breath. “I don’t ask for help . . . Look, kid, I’m not a perfect man. No one is. I’m not a good role model for you, but I don’t have my head up my ass, so I know it. But what I can do is help you be better than me. I want you to be better than me. Better than Benny. Better than your father. You need help, and your mom and sister need you.”

  
“ _They’re not my mom and sister!_ “ Billy roared.

  
“Then why is Susan bleeding for you?” Hopper snarled quietly. “Neil wasn’t after her, but she tried pull him off of you.”  
The boy was silent on the other side of the door. “Let me in kid,” Hopper said. “Let me in.”

  
Another tense moment passed, but finally the door opened. Hopper looked down at the kid and felt his chest squeeze. Billy was a mess of bruises. He had the beginnings of two black eyes, his lips were split in at least three places, and he had an obvious knot on his left temple. He held his stomach gingerly, and Hopper suspected that he had at least some bruised ribs, possibly even broken ones. “Come on kid,” he said gently. “I heard the ambulance.”

  
After settling Billy at the dining room table, Mrs. Hargrove reached out to him. The boy looked at her in turn, and allowed her to touch his cheek. The woman looked at him and then at her daughter next to her. Then, she looked up at Hopper. “I want a divorce. Can you help me?”

  
“Yeah,” Hopper said, “we can help you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a few things:
> 
> 1) Private First Class Ralph Henry Johnson was a real person. He served during the Vietnam War, and gave his life exactly as described by Benny in-story. For his bravery and selflessness PFC Johnson was awarded the Medal of Honor. The VA Hospital in Charleston, South Carolina was renamed the Ralph H. Johnson VA Medical Center in his honor in 1991. You can view his Medal of Honor Citation as well as a photo on [his Wikipedia page.](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ralph_H._Johnson) (He really was a pretty dude.)
> 
> 2) The Vietnam War ended in 1975, but US involvement had ended 2 years earlier in 1973. Benny was cast as a veteran because he struck me as neither college educated nor physically impaired, and there was a draft in effect during the war. If a young man's draft number was called, he had to enlist unless he was either impaired or in the process of getting a college education. This meant that disproportionately poor, working class young men ended up being sent over. Affluent young men were able to afford college and be protected from having to serve. It can be summed up in one phrase - "a rich man's war and a poor man's fight."
> 
> 3) Vietnam also left many young men with deep psychological scars. The movie, _First Blood_ which was based off of a novel of the same name, addressed the PTSD that many Vietnam vets carried. The movie featured the character known as Rambo, and far from being the usual 80s action extravaganza, actually dealt a lot with how veterans react to being reintegrated with civilian life. Vietnam vets also returned home to either indifference or outright hostility. 
> 
> 4) As the wife of a veteran, please respect and support veterans. Even if you disagree with the conflict they fought in, a lot of the time they aren't joining for some high ideals, or they honestly didn't see any alternative. Veterans experience higher rates of mental illness, depression, and suicide. Veterans are also more likely to become abusive (looking at you there, Neil) and to be homeless. And like during Vietnam - they tend to be from lower income families. 
> 
> Jumping down off of my history teacher soap box now.
> 
> Thank you everyone for the kudos and comments! I appreciate it, and hope you continue to enjoy my fic!


	4. A New Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Susan Hargrove is done with everyone's bull shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My God the profanity. Also, descriptions of aftermath.

At the end of the night, Hopper arrested Neil Hargrove on charges of assault and battery. Bright and early the next day, Susan Hargrove filed for divorce and with Hopper’s help, for a restraining order. Billy had tolerated having pictures taken of the damage, and the ER doctor gave a deposition of the extent of the teen’s injuries. Neil had cracked two of the kid’s ribs, caused bruising over a significant portion of his torso, fractured his left wrist, and nearly broken his right occipital bone.

  
The judge - a man more used to dealing with DUIs and petty theft - didn’t need a lot of convincing. “The divorce will take some time,” Judge Randal said, “But I’m granting the restraining order immediately. Now, what about your step son? You mentioned that he is from Mr. Hargrove’s first marriage.”

  
Susan sighed. “Neil has custody. I don’t know anything past that. I’ve never met his first wife.”

  
Randal sucked on his top teeth. “Alright, I’ll have my office check on the status of her parental rights. Admittedly, I’ve never dealt with this before so I will need to check that it is within my power to award you with custody.”

  
Susan nodded, with a small smile. “Thank you, Your Honor.”

  
After the courthouse, she went back home. Billy and Max were staying at the hospital with Officer Callahan. He’d volunteered to keep an eye on them while she ran errands. Neil was probably being arraigned as she drove, and no one knew how he’d react to it all. She needed to clean up the kitchen, and she wanted to make sure Billy’s room was comfortable when he got home. The doctor had said that he would be feeling poorly for quite some time.

  
Cleaning didn’t take long, but just as she was about to go out and fetch her children, the phone rang. “Hello?” she said.

  
“Is this Susan Hargrove?” a feminine voice asked from the other end.

  
“This is she.”

  
“. . . This is Patricia. Neil’s first wife.”

  
Susan let out a deep breath. “The judge got in touch.”

  
“Yes, Judge Randal’s office got in touch.” The woman’s voice was full of pain. “I . . . I heard about Billy.”

  
“He’s not here, but if you give me your number -“

  
“I can’t.”

  
Susan stopped, blinking in confusion. “What?”

  
“When I divorced his father, I gave up my parental rights. Neil had me on adultery, it was the only way I could get a divorce out of the bastard.”

  
“But, I . . . He . . .”

  
“And I’ve moved on,” the woman said, her voice anguished. “I have two young children, and we don’t have room right now for another child. I told the judge that I couldn’t take him.”

  
“But he’s your son,” Susan said. “ _He’s your son._ “

  
“ _And I’m giving him to you_.“

  
There was a click, and then the sound of a dead line.

  
Susan took the headpiece away from her ear, and stared at it. The dormant redheaded temper that she’d beaten back in her teenage years reared its head. “What the _hell_ was that? What the fucking hell _was that?_ “

  
Her voice rose. “ _What the fucking hell is all of this_?“ She slammed the receiver down and turned to the empty house. “Fuck you Patricia! And you know what, fuck you Neil! I’m fucking done with both of you! You don’t want your son, you selfish bitch, then I’ll _keep him!_ “

  
How could anyone not want their child? Max was her world, had always been from the moment Susan had held her in her arms the first time. Those little toes, fingers, chubby baby cheeks that had become toddler smiles and squeals. The sweet babble of an innocent that had helped her through some of the toughest moments of her life. How could any mother remember all of that, remember all the love of their sweet child, and not want them?

  
Her ire well and truly raised by years of abuse and manipulation, by the actions of two deeply selfish people, by the guilt of her own complicity and the injustice of it all to the two completely innocent parties involved in the whole mess, Susan grabbed her keys and stormed out of the house. Her anger lasted her right up until she was facing Billy again, and then it faltered.

  
He was laying the hospital bed, looking out the window. They’d given him a private room, deciding that his injuries warranted at least some observation to make sure they weren’t worse. The doc had been worried about a concussion, but it looked like he had only a minor one. “Billy?”

  
“What do you want Susan?” He turned to look at her, his green eyes an unsettling mirror of Neil’s. Max glanced between the two of them, chewing on her lip.

  
“I got a restraining order,” she said softly, “Neil isn’t allowed near us or the house.”

  
“Great, that helps a lot,” he said sarcastically, his tone another unnerving mirror of his father.

  
She swallowed. The long dead voice of her mother told her to retreat, to be the meek housewife that she was supposed to be, but that ferocious voice that had long been dead inside her spoke up too: _he is not your husband_. “Your mother called.”

  
Billy froze. His eyes went glacially cold. “What did that bitch want?” And oh God, that was Neil. Neil was talking through this boy’s mouth and it made Susan sick.

  
“The bitch told me she couldn’t take you.”

  
God that was cruel, she thought, but she didn’t let the wounded look on his face stop her. “She should have stayed with Neil. I bet they were perfect together, two selfish assholes who only thought about themselves.”

  
He snarled at her. “Shut up!”

  
“No!” she snapped. “No, I will not because I am the parent here. Neil may think you’re trash, and Patricia may not want you, but I do. I want the little boy who taught Max to skateboard, and cooks a better plate of spaghetti than I do. So I’m taking you, William Alexander Hargrove, and you’re going to be _my son_.”

  
His jaw was tense, locked so hard that she wondered if he was in danger of cracking his teeth. “And you, me, and Max, we’re going to be a family. We’re going to remember how to be _us_ and not the scared, angry people that Neil Hargrove made us. I’ve done so much wrong by you, Billy, Max, but not anymore.”

  
She approached his bed, and touched his fist. “You don’t have to like it, not right now, but please, Billy.”

  
He said nothing, but Susan would not give up.

  
After all, Max didn’t get her temper from her father.

* * *

The rest of the summer passed in a strange haze for Billy. It took him several weeks to heal completely, and Benny insisted on him taking light shifts until he was fully back into good health. He didn’t see Neil at all, and when he asked, it turned out that Neil was renting an apartment on the other side of town. Susan was actually keeping her promise to try to make them a family, but Billy still had his doubts. His own mother didn’t want him, why would Susan? The grandstanding had been nice, but in the end, that was all it was.

  
They clashed a lot. Mostly in how he treated her and Max. The least little remark would set her off, and cause a huge fight. She didn’t back down though, not like she did with Neil, and Billy couldn’t say whether that upset him or not. Hopper took Susan’s side. “You learned a lot of bad habits from your dad.”

  
“Yeah?” he sneered, “like what?”

  
“Like insulting everyone.” Hopper gave him a look. “People don’t generally like it when you call them stupid.”

  
“Hard when people are stupid,” Billy muttered.

  
“Be nice to your mom and sister.”

  
It was hard though. The tight ball of rage that always beat right beneath his heart wasn’t gone just because Neil was. If anything, it was larger, harder, because of the fact that he had been abandoned by his mother completely. Before, he’d been able to fantasize about someday getting to go back to her. Now, well now he knew that she didn’t want him at all. She was too busy with her new family, whoever they were. Susan refused to tell him why Patricia wouldn’t take him, but he wasn’t stupid.

  
He didn’t want to be nice to them. He didn’t want to think about the fact that Susan was trying to claim him as her child. He didn’t want to think about Max tentatively asking him about using his actual skateboard now that Neil wouldn’t do anything to it. He didn’t want to think about the fact that evenings were peaceful now, the three of them eating dinner in peace, at least when he wasn’t picking a fight with Susan.

  
The divorce was becoming a strain for Susan though. One night in early August, she sat Max and Billy down at the dining room table after Billy’s shift at the diner. “Neil is contesting our divorce. According to my lawyer, the family courts will probably side with me due to the police reports, but there’s a problem.”

  
She looked directly at Billy. “He wants custody of you, Billy.”

  
“But Mom,” Max piped up, “He hit Billy! He hurt him!”

  
“I’m right here,” he growled.

  
She turned her fiery look on him. “Yeah, I noticed!”

  
“Children!” Susan snapped. “I know Neil hit Billy, but my lawyer isn’t sure that I can gain custody uncontested. The judge will want to talk to Billy, and we may have to get a Guardian Ad Litum -“

  
“A what?” Billy asked.

  
Susan shrugged. “Someone to speak for you legally, since you’re underage and neither Neil or I are unbiased parties.” She licked her lips. “That is, unless you want to go with Neil.”

  
There was silence at the table. Max’s eyes were darting between the two of them, her face drawn and tense. Billy stared down Susan, his jaw clenched tight. His rage seethed beneath his heart, but he couldn’t be sure if it was because of Neil or Susan’s question. “You have a choice, Billy,” she murmured softly. “I want to make your life better, make up for all the years I watched him hurt you, demean you, but I refuse to try to force you to do things against your will if it’s not necessary.”

  
“What makes you think I want to go back to him?” It sounded more like Susan was trying to get rid of him now that he wasn’t falling for her whole “let’s be a family” schtick.

  
She got that look, the look she had right before she asked for a divorce, right before she told him about his mother. “Because sometimes it feels like he never left.”

  
The rage went cold. Billy couldn’t breathe. “Billy, I can’t do this alone. If you don’t want to have anything to do with me and Max, this is your way out. You can go back to him and keep living the way you were before. But if you stay, you have to work with me. You don’t have to be just like him. You know that. I’ve seen how you act the days you’ve talked to Hopper. The days you’ve had lots of time to talk to Benny. You know you don’t have the be like him.”

  
_But it was hard._ He wanted to scream that at the top of his lungs. He didn’t know how to be anything other than the angry young man he was. His eyes went to the table, staring at his clenched fists on the formica surface. His hands were nicked from his summer of working in a kitchen, with older scars from his many fights over the years.

  
Then, a soft palm touched his cheek.

  
He froze. “Billy,” Susan said, “Do you remember the first time we met?”

  
How could he forget? It had been over a year since his father and mother had divorced, and Neil had promised Billy a new mother. He’d been so excited, and then when he’d been introduced, had been fascinated by her hair. “I said your hair looked like fire.”

  
Her chuckle was quiet. “To this day, it was the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

  
Billy could tell her that Neil had taunted him about it later that day. He could tell her that he’d regretted it that very evening as he listened to his father ask his what kinda pansy said things like that. His rage demanded it, but she’d reminded him of Hopper and Benny. Neither man was cruel for cruelty’s sake. He could be broken without being cruel.

  
He swallowed thickly and looked back up at her. “I . . . I want to stay.”

  
She pulled him into a hug, and he didn’t resist. He didn’t resist when Max joined them, burying her head into his neck like she had the first time she’d experienced one of Neil’s rages.

  
For the first time in a long time, he was at peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for all the love! I'm glad you guys are enjoying it!


	5. The New Kids

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> School starts.

In anticipation of school, Benny cut the hours that Billy worked. He also started giving him Mondays and Tuesdays off in addition to Sundays. He promised that if Billy needed em, every other Saturday was possible as well. It was kind of nice, but jarring to a kid that was still adjusting to the new rhythms of his life.

  
Of course, the more accommodating schedule worked for another reason. Neil’s case to regain custody of Billy was not going well at all - Judge Randal had been utterly outraged by the photos of Billy’s injuries when he finally saw them - so out of spite he took back Billy’s blue Camaro since it was in his name. Susan had apologized, but they’d have to share her car for the time being. The ball of rage that lived in Billy’s chest had made even speaking hard after that, but he refused to let Neil win. And Neil would win if he took his anger out on Susan or Max.

  
Other people were not so lucky. Billy’s tolerance for bullshit was purely reserved for the people he’d begun to care about. He wouldn’t admit it at all, but Hopper, Benny, Susan, and Max had become important to him. He still didn’t fully trust this new arrangement, but as August wore on, he watched Susan fighting Neil for him, and he couldn’t help but feel the tiniest flare of hope.

  
“So,” Susan said one evening, the day before school started again, “First day tomorrow.”

  
“Yeah,” he replied, chopping onion skillfully. He’d had plenty of practice the last couple of months. He had healed completely from Neil’s assault, but he couldn’t deny his nerves.

  
“Mom!” Max yelled. “I’m not wearing this!”

  
Susan rolled her eyes. “Come on, Max,” she said in her most wheedling tone, “You look adorable.”

  
The girl stomped into the kitchen. Billy tried not laugh, but he knew that his mouth was curling into a grin. “I’m not wearing this.”

  
The “this” in question was a sailor suit-style dress in a deep navy. It was silly and infantile, but the color actually suited Max. “You look like you’re two.”

  
“Thanks, asshole,” she snapped.

  
“Maxine!” Susan cried.

  
Billy just smiled. “Hey, it’s just the truth.”

  
“See, Mom,” Max agreed, “It’s just the truth.”

  
Susan sighed, rolling her eyes. “I love both of you, but damn.” She glared at her daughter. “You’re wearing it young lady, and that’s that.”

  
Max growled and stomped back to her room. Susan shook her head and turned to Billy. “Come here, I have a surprise for you.”

  
Wiping his hands, Billy followed her out the front door. He stopped on the porch, blinking at the two cars sitting under the garage cover. One was Susan’s serviceable Oldsmobile. “I couldn’t get you a ’79,” Susan said, “But I found this ’77. Guy was wanting to get a new one, and was willing to let it go for a steal. It’s even the blue you like.”

  
Billy clenched his jaw. His eyes were burning, but he gulped down a few huge breaths of air. “Thanks,” he said, his voice strangled. The other car had been his father’s and then given to him for Neil’s convienence. Susan had gone out of her way to get him another car, and she . . . God damn it she even knew his favorite color.

  
“You like it?” she asked. She held out the keys to him. “It’s all yours, but you will be taking Max to and from school, understand?”

  
“Yes, ma’am.” He looked down at the keys in his hand. “Susan?”

  
“Yes?”

“Why?”

  
She cocked her head. “You needed a car, and I wanted you to have one you’d enjoy. I’ve done so much wrong by you, and I . . . It’s a Band-Aid on a bullet hole, but I figured you’d feel better in a familiar car.”

  
“Thank you, Susan,” he said softly, “Thank you.”

* * *

Dustin Henderson loved school. He loved learning things, and loved being with his friends. Okay, the bullies sucked, but he loved his friends and was genuinely excited for a new school year. Dustin had an optimistic attitude about life, and he was convinced that this year would be awesome. He was always convinced that the coming year would be awesome. It served him well even in some of the worst moments of his life.

  
However, this was not one of those moments. He was sitting in homeroom, and as luck would have it, Mike Wheeler was also in here with him. He guessed that Will Byers and Lucas Sinclair were in Mr. Henshaw’s class. Just moments before the first bell rang, a girl walked into the room. A new girl. Dustin stared, because she was the prettiest girl he’d ever seen, aside from Nancy Wheeler. Her hair was a deep red, curly, and fell around her shoulders. She was kinda tall, but then again all the girls in sixth grade were. She had pretty eyes, and the blue of her sailor-style dress accented them.

  
Her face, on the other hand, said that she’d rather be anywhere but here.

“Good morning, you must be Maxine Mayfield,” Mrs. Reilly said.

  
“Max,” the girl all but growled, her eyes tight and thunderous.

  
“Okay, Max, please go to the empty seat on the third row. That’s where you’ll be sitting for right now.”

  
The girl nodded and went to her assigned seat. Dustin caught Mike’s eye, and gestured to her. Mike just shook his head. Both boys turned to face the front as the final bell rang, and Mrs. Reilly started the usual back-to-school spiel. However, Dustin couldn’t help but keep glancing over at the new girl. The one time he managed to get her attention, she only glared at him. However, he wasn’t deterred.

  
He had all year to try to talk to her.

* * *

Nancy Wheeler was not as enthused about the start of school, viewing it more as a means to an end. She was determined to go places and do things, and getting good grades in school was a step towards that goal. She was goal oriented enough to plan for this, and she was determined to succeed.

  
“Nancy!”

  
She turned back to see her best friend, Barb Holland, coming toward her in the hall. “Hey Barb!”

  
Barb took her arm and leaned in close. “Have you seen the new guy?”

  
“New guy?” she said, scanning the crowded hall. “What new guy?”

  
Barb’s eyes took on a whole new shine. “Look,” she breathed, nodding towards the hallway to Nancy’s left.

  
Looking up, she saw the new kid clear as day. He stuck out, his sauntering gait and outfit sticking out like a sore thumb in the halls of Hawkins High. He was dressed in jeans and a denim jacket, with a button up shirt beneath. The chain of a necklace could be seen peaking out from beneath his shirt. His hair was teased out, and earrings peaked from beneath his curls. In all he was dressed like he was in a rock band. Nancy wasn’t particularly attracted to it, but she knew Barb was had a soft spot for bad boys. “Do you know his name?”

  
“No,” Barb breathed, “But he’s so hot.”

  
Nancy pursed her lips. “Not my type,” she said as he passed by. He glanced over at her, and locked eyes. She had to admit, if it weren’t for the expression in them, she would love his eyes though. They were a beautiful green. As their eyes held a moment more, Nancy nodded and gave him a small smile in greeting. His face smoothed out, hard edges curving into an expression that Nance could only describe later as beguiling. It was a flirtatious smile set over playful eyes, and she could admit that in that moment she’d be tempted to flirt back. It was that effective.

  
“Morning ladies,” he said, his gaze going to Barb too. His voice was a luscious baritone, the words loaded with unspoken innuendo.

  
Nancy, not being a fool, smelled a con. No guy sounded like that unless he wanted something. Barb, however, sighed and replied, “Good morning.”

  
The new guy stopped, and gave them a quick look over. Nancy bristled, but Barb didn’t notice. “I’m Billy Hargrove,” he said. “I’m new here.”

  
“I’m Barb Holland and this is Nancy Wheeler,” Barb gushed.

  
“Hi,” Nancy put in, holding out her hand. Billy looked down at it, and then took it. His hands were calloused, and dwarfed Nancy’s fingers. His handshake was firm, commanding, and lingered. “Do you need help finding your first class?”

  
His smile grew. “Nah, I already got directions.”

  
“Hey Nancy.”

  
Now that voice, that voice was welcome. Nancy turned away from the slick newcomer, and to the boy that had been the center of her romantic fantasies for months now. Steve Harrington, the most popular boy at Hawkins High. He grinned at her, his polo shirt perfectly tucked into his khaki pants and his hair coiffed impeccably. It was one of the reasons he’d gotten the nickname of Steve “the Hair” Harrington. “Hi, Steve.”

  
Steve then looked up at Billy, and the two boys did that irritating thing that Nancy hated. The whole pissing contest thing that she couldn’t stand, but that all teenage and adult men seemed to think was appropriate. Thank God her dad was too meek to do it on a regular basis. “Steve Harrington,” he said, putting out his hand for a shake.

  
“Billy Hargrove,” the new guy supplied, taking the offered hand. Nancy could see both of their knuckles whitening, and she rolled her eyes at the testosterone fest going on in front of her.

  
“Um,” came a small voice, “You guys are in front of my locker.”

  
The foursome looked up to see Jonathan Byers looking down at the floor as he stood in front of them. The little group was blocking a bank of lockers, and he was pointing at one right behind Nancy. “Oh,” she said, “Sorry! We all need to be getting on to class, right guys?”

  
Steve nodded and Billy gave the girls one last “ladies” before heading off to his classroom. Barb and Nancy followed after, not once looking back at Jonathan. If they had, they may have caught the longing look he threw Nancy’s way.

* * *

“Come on guys, this is our last chance!” Dustin called as he led his best friends out the side entrance to Hawkins Middle. He’d been waiting all day to get a chance to talk to the new girl, but she had proven illusive.

  
“We’re coming,” Lucas snapped, “But it’s not like we won’t have a chance to talk to her tomorrow.”

  
“And the day after,” Will added.

  
“And the day after,” Mike piped up with a chuckle.

  
Dustin rolled his eyes. “I just want to . . . holy crap.” He skidded to a stop, and Lucas stopped beside him. Will and Mike came up to flank their poleaxed friends.

  
The new girl, Max, was walking towards a sweet car. Dustin was not a car kind of kid, so he didn’t know what the make was, but Lucas did. “Wow, that’s a Camaro.”

  
However, more awe-inspiring than the car was the guy who was getting out of it to meet Max. He looked like he belonged on stage with like, Journey or Duran Duran or something. Dustin watched in awe as he looked at Max, then turned to them. They’d stopped about ten feet away, and all of the other middle schoolers had wisely taken wide berth of the blue car. “What are you morons staring at?” he snapped, his voice sharp as a whip.

  
“Your car is awesome,” Lucas said, his eyes roaming over the curves of the machine.

  
The guy curled his lip in disgust. “Dream on. Max, who are these losers?”

  
Max looked back, and a puzzled expression crossed her face. “Just some kids from my class? I don’t even know their names.”

  
“I’m Dustin!” He gave them a smile, well aware that he lacked most of his teeth. “And this is Lucas, Mike, and Will.”

  
The guy snorted. “We don’t care. Get in Max.”

  
She shook her head and did as he said. They peeled out of the lot, leaving the Party gaping in their wake. “What jerks,” Lucas muttered.

  
“Yeah,” Will agreed, “I don’t think she’s open to hanging out with us, Dustin.”

  
Dustin watched the car leave, and sighed. “Yeah, I guess the new kids are kinda jerks.”

  
Mike nodded. “You can’t win em all, Dustin. You can’t win em all.”

* * *

That night, the Wheeler family sat down around their table, and Karen Wheeler served up dinner. “So, how was your first day?” she asked brightly.

  
“It was okay.” Nancy tucked into her mashed potatoes with gusto.

  
“There’s a new girl in my class,” Mike piped up.

  
“Oh, really? Is she pretty?” Karen asked with a smile.

  
Mike sneered. “She’s a jerk. Her brother too.”

  
“Mike,” Karen admonished. “She’s new. She’s probably a little standoffish because she’s nervous.”

  
Nancy pursed her lips. “Was her brother wearing a denim jacket?”

  
“Yeah,” Mike answered. “And he drove an awesome car! The car was cool.”

  
“I think I know him. His name’s Billy Hargrove. He has English with me and Barb.”

  
Karen stopped, and glanced over at Ted. Ted was stolid, steady, thoroughly unflappable man. Truthfully, Karen had never actually loved him, but more the idea of him. Back when she was younger, he was the perfect husband - educated, hardworking, and kind. But after twenty years of marriage, the facade had worn away. He slept in his Lazy Boy most nights, and they hadn’t had sex in at least three years. She had subverted all her passion into caring for the kids, but she still felt the lack late at night when Ted was busy snoring in front of the TV.

  
However, they’d both heard the gossip that was percolating around town. Neil Hargrove, so the gossips said, was a hard drinking, womanizing ne’er-do-well that put old Lonnie Byers to shame. Thing was, Byers had been tolerated around town because while he’d been trashy, he’d never been charged with beating his wife and children. Hargrove was awaiting trial. Janet Long down at the beauty parlor had said that according to her sources - Karen was pretty sure her daughter was dating Officer Callahan - the boy had been beaten badly enough to need hospitalization.

  
“I want you to be careful around him,” Karen said. “I haven’t heard very good things about his family.”

  
Both children looked at her with completely confused looks. “Mom?” Nancy asked. “What are you talking about?”

  
Karen sighed. “Just . . . His father isn’t well spoken of around town.”

  
“So, we’re just supposed to write him off?” Nancy pressed, fire coming into her eyes. “Because of his dad?”

  
“I just want you to be careful,” Karen said. “Just in case.”

  
Nancy huffed, but didn’t press the matter. Mike had watched everything with wide eyes, glancing back and forth between his mother and sister. The rest of dinner went by with little fanfare, and Karen spent the evening cleaning the kitchen. In the living room Ted watched the evening news and dozed in his chair. She could tell from his position that he’d probably fall asleep and stay there. So she got ready for bed, and read some more of the latest Johanna Lindsey novel. Novels were the only place she could find romance anymore.

  
Oh, if only she could find a man like the ones in the novels. A strong man, willing to listen to her, but willing to push her and engage with her. Someone who wouldn’t always say “yes, dear” and go back to ignoring her. Someone tall, someone broad, someone _sexy._ Maybe with a badge . . .

  
With a snort, Karen shut down that thought. For one thing, she was married, for another, _he_ was just as big a mess as either Lonnie Byers or Neil Hargrove. Even if he had a voice that did things to her.

  
It still didn’t stop her from dreaming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy! Plus, I love Dustin. He was me as a kid, and I won't lie, he's totally author's pet.
> 
> By the way, just because of the sheer number of characters I plan on having, I decided to cut Holly from the story. She's a cute kid, but in the end, I've already planned the Party out to include too many characters, and she never factored into the planning. And . . . this is already turning into a complete AU, so I figured it wouldn't be a bad thing.


End file.
